


Out of the Frying Pan

by natacup82



Category: Justice League (2017), Justice League - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Misunderstandings, not!hooker au, unprotected sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-13
Updated: 2018-05-13
Packaged: 2019-05-06 08:22:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14637894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/natacup82/pseuds/natacup82
Summary: “If you’d prefer to not utilize our solution that's perfectly fine. The fee will be waived and we will go our separate ways.”Bruce closes his eyes and tries not to sigh audibly. Maybe taking down an online madam is exactly what he needs to stop this restlessness. “That’s not necessary, I’d welcome your solution if it meets my needs.”Bruce agrees to use the services of an exclusive fixer and aggressively misunderstands what problem she's trying to fix.





	Out of the Frying Pan

**Author's Note:**

  * For [impertinence](https://archiveofourown.org/users/impertinence/gifts).



> A hearty thank you to Misspamela for betaing whatever the hell this is; she is truly the best of us. 
> 
> A few things:  
> 1) The title is courtesy of impertinence who gave me some real whoppers to write for so hope you enjoy this bud!  
> 2) I'd consider this fic Not!A Hooker fic but that's not a canon tag so here we are.  
> 3) There are two scenes in this that are a near direct lift from Justice League  
> 4)I could not handle transcribing anything from Suicide Squad so apologies in advance for the rushed but of post credit scene

Bruce doesn’t generally attend Gotham’s endless society functions. At one time it had been expected for him to show up, seemingly drunk and rowdy, but that time has long since past. He’s only agreed to attend this one because it’s in service of a charity he’s supported in the past and supposedly his presence will make some of the other attendees open their wallets. 

Bruce mingles as much as he’s willing to, then finds an out of the way spot to have some champagne and check his police scanners. He’s made his way through the radio calls and is just turning to the Gotham Police twitter when someone steps up beside him. 

“At least try not to scowl at the guests, Bruce,” Lucius says before taking a sip of champagne. Lucius Fox has been a business manager for the Wayne Foundation for years, so Bruce resists the urge to insult him for interrupting his work. 

“I’m not scowling,” Bruce says, closing twitter. There’s nothing of note being reported which should be a good thing, but Bruce is feeling restless and in need of doing _something_. “This just isn’t what I’d consider the best use of my time.”

Lucius turns to him and raises an eyebrow. “You are in a room with the rest of Gotham’s elite and we are trying to raise money for your foundation, what could be a better use of an evening?” Lucius says, gesturing at the room. 

“I could think of at least five different things,” Bruce says, looking at the crowd. He can’t deny that the turnout is good, especially for a gala without a sit down dinner where entry was a thousand dollars per person. Still, he’s restless and would rather be out punching someone than attempting small talk so rich assholes will donate more money. It’s exhausting. 

“Only five?” a voice says from behind them. “Where’s your imagination, Wayne?”

Bruce and Lucius turn and find Kate Kane walking up behind them. “Kate,” Bruce says nodding at her. “Five is more than enough for me.”

“Miss Kane,” Lucius says, shaking hands with Kate. “I’m glad you could make it. If you’ll both excuse me I’m going to go mingle with our other guests.” Lucius starts to walk away and then turns and says to Bruce, “Remember, less scowling please.” And then he heads off back into the crowd. 

Bruce nods at Lucius and then turns to Kate and raises an eyebrow. “I’m surprised to see you here tonight. I didn’t think Gotham society charity functions were your speed.”

Kate snorts. “They aren’t. But I was asked to make an appearance and donation in my family’s name so here I am. So, why are you back here brooding?”  
“I’m not brooding,” Bruce says, handing his glass off to a passing waiter. He expected this event to be a trial but it seems like everyone he knows is actively trying to push his buttons. “Just because I’m not up for trying to talk people into donating money doesn’t mean I’m brooding.”

“Sure,” Kate says, nodding. “Hanging out in a dark corner barely interacting with people at an event for your family charity that’s been months in the making is definitely not brooding.”

“Are you done?” Bruce asks, annoyed. 

Kate shrugs. “Not really. Do you know what your problem is?” Kate asks. 

“No but I’m sure you’re going to tell me.”

Kate looks at him for a moment and then nods. “I’m feeling generous so I’m going to do you a favor,” Kate says before she opens her purse. 

“Ha,” Kate says, pulling out a small grey card and handing it to him. “Go to the website on that card and follow the instructions.”

Bruce flips the card and sees that it’s a url and non-Gotham area phone number. “What is this?”

“That’s the fixer. You answer her questions, she gives you a solution,” Kate says. 

Bruce rolls his eyes. “I don’t have a problem that needs fixing. Unlike some of the people in this room, I’m not overly prone to scandal anymore.”

“That’s not what she does,” Kate says then pauses and frowns. “That’s not all she does. Sometimes she helps handle scandals, sometimes she helps you find an outlet for your restlessness when you’re being overly intense at charity functions,” Kate says raising an eyebrow at him. 

Bruce glares at her. “What kind of outlet?” He can’t deny that he’s been on edge lately and it’s a definite problem if people are noticing.

“It’s totally dependent on the person,” Kate says, grabbing an appetizer as a waiter approaches with a tray. “The last time I needed her she booked me to free climb up a mountain. The time before that she sent me to a fight club, who knows what she’ll do with you.”

Bruce frowns. It’s not the worst idea he’s heard, but he still doesn’t trust a source that Kate is giving up freely. “I’ll think about it.”

Kate cuts a look his way. “You do that,” Kate says. “Don’t make me regret being nice to you,” and then she wipes her hands on a napkin and disappears back into the crowd, leaving Bruce alone.

*  
It’s three weeks before Bruce goes to the site. He patrols and attends meetings for Wayne Enterprises and mainly ignores the low level feeling of restlessness until he throws a mugger into a brick wall for no real reason.

After he types up his notes that night he pulls out the card. 

Bruce types in the link and frowns as it loads. “What the hell is this?” He mumbles, scrolling through the very strange website. It’s a few seconds before Bruce really understands what the site is saying without saying. The tagline is “a discreet solution for your problems” with a link to a form. 

Bruce clicks on the form and answers the first question, then the next, on and on, new questions appearing with seemingly no relation to each other. There are a series of questions about how he’s feeling and why, about the kinds of exercise he does, about his sexual preferences, his favorite snack foods, his work and sleeping habits. Nothing that makes any sense together until he gets to the end and it tells him call the number listed and then wire one hundred thousand dollars to the offshore bank account listed on the screen. Bruce frowns at the demand for money but calls the number.

“Mr. Wayne,” a woman’s voice says on the phone. “I’m glad you decided to make the call.”

“It seemed a waste to not find out exactly what you think is the solution to my problem,” Bruce says. He’s not alarmed that she knows his name, it seems like the kind of operation that makes a point of knowing exactly who knows about them.

The woman laughs, a low sound that would be sinister if she didn’t sound so amused. “Luckily your problem is not so difficult Mr. Wayne, you’ve simply overlooked one of your needs for far too long.”

“I’m not sure I understand you,” Bruce says, even though he does; he just can’t imagine that Kate Kane of all people has given him the website for a madam. 

“I’m sure you do Mr. Wayne,” the woman says. “If you’d prefer to not utilize our solution that's perfectly fine. The fee will be waived and we will go our separate ways.”

Bruce closes his eyes and tries not to sigh audibly. Maybe taking down an online madam is exactly what he needs to stop this restlessness. “That’s not necessary, I’d welcome your solution if it meets my needs.”

“Good,” She says with a laugh. “Based on your answers you have no preference on gender, is that actually correct?” She asks.”I’ve found that sometimes our clients answer questions based on what they think is the best answer and not their personal reality.”

“I don’t have a preference on gender,” Bruce says. “I’m sure your staff are highly vetted to ensure they maintain client privacy.”

“We don’t have staff Mr. Wayne. We simply connect you with a service professional,” she says. “Prior to setting your appointment they will sign a non-disclosure agreement. The fee you’ll pay tonight will be the initial finders fee, once your appointment is set you’ll receive a text with the account number and rate for your solution. I should warn you that your first appointment will be on our schedule, after that you’re welcome to book with your solution directly.”

Bruce nods and takes note of the account number on his screen. He’ll have to set a trace on it as he transfers the initial fee. If he can get some additional information out of the _solution_ he might have enough to take these people down and then he can talk to Kate about the other types of solutions this so called fixer is offering. “That will definitely work for me,” Bruce says. “What should I do if there are any problems or if this ‘solution’ isn’t a good fit?”

She laughs again. Bruce is coming to hate that laugh and the dehumanizing way she talks as if they are products not people. “If it doesn’t correct your problem or it’s not to your taste simply call this number. They’ll be reassigned and we’ll get something more in line with your taste.”

“Excellent,” Bruce says, disgusted with this process. He’s more sure than ever that taking these people out will be just what he needs. “I look forward to my appointment.”

“And we look forward to working with you, Mr. Wayne. Goodbye.” And then she hangs up and Bruce sets up his trace and starts the transfer. 

*

Bruce gets a text alert about his first appointment in the middle of a board meeting. He cancels his dinner meeting, sends a note to Alfred that he’ll be patrolling earlier than usual and replies to confirm the appointment. 

He isn’t nervous exactly, but it’s something new to try interrogating someone when they’re not tied up and shaking in fear of the bat. It’s a bigger challenge than he wants to admit, even to himself, but it’s what needs to be done to take these people down. In a way it’s doing exactly what he needed, redirecting his restlessness.

He patrols early, stopping a few robberies and getting in the middle of an assault in progress, but it’s relatively quiet for a Thursday night in Gotham. Bruce spends the last few hours before his appointment entering notes and resetting the search parameters for new global threats.  
And then he gives Alfred an out of town assignment an hour before his appointment and sets up in the living room to wait. 

The doorbell rings on the hour. Bruce is oddly nervous about having this person in his house, it’s weird to mix the two sides of his identity and he doesn’t particularly like it. 

He opens the door to find a twenty-something with messy hair wearing a superman t-shirt and a denim jacket. 

“Hey,” the guy says, smiling at Bruce and waving. “Are you Bruce?” he asks. 

“Yes,” Bruce says speaking slowly. “Can I help you?”

The guy laughs. “Right, sorry. I’m Barry. Your uh,” he pauses. “Solution, I guess. That’s weird right? I don’t know why I have to refer to myself like I’m a care package or something but it’s -”

Bruce cuts him off. “Yes, it’s weird. Please come in,” Bruce says, stepping back to let Barry into the house 

Barry steps in and looks around. “Damn,” Barry says, taking in the foyer. 

“Thanks, I think,” Bruce says closing the door. 

“That was definitely a good damn,” Barry says. “This place is ridiculous.”

Bruce nods before segueing into why Barry is in his house. “I don’t know if you have a process but there’s light dinner available if you’d like and we can discuss how things proceed from there.”

“That’s cool,” Barry says nodding. “And I could always eat. I usually like to get an overview of your schedule, how often you want me to come over, expectations, all of that boring detail stuff. But can I get the tour first? I feel like i’m going to try to go to the bathroom and never be found again.”

Bruce blinks at the sudden stop to Barry’s rambling. “Of course, there’s not a bathroom on this floor but a tour should give you a good idea of how to navigate to any of the hall baths upstairs.” 

And then Bruce leads the way, through the kitchen and up the backstairs with a hand on Barry’s back to point him in the right direction. Barry flirts with him every step of the way and Bruce doesn’t know how to react outside of flirting back to maintain his cover. 

They finally make it to the guest wing, taking a brief tour before taking the hall that’s most well traveled for Bruce. 

"This is the family wing," Bruce says as they walk down the hall. "There are four smaller bedrooms, and two bathrooms before you get to the master."

Barry looks into each of the rooms, his eyebrows creeping up higher as they go. "Exactly how rich are you?" Barry asks, trailing a hand along the chair rail in the hallway.

"Very," Bruce says as they reach the master bedroom and he pushes open the double doors.

Barry steps in and looks around, turning to take in everything. "This is bigger than every apartment I’ve ever had," Barry says as he takes in the room. He wanders over toward the bathroom and adds, "Is this a dual head shower? You have this bathroom and you leave the house? _On purpose_?”

Bruce’s lips quirk into the barest hint of a smile and he says, "I've only had that for a couple of years." He leans against the doorway and frowns at the way Barry wanders the bathroom touching things. "Once you get used to it it's not that special."

Barry looks up from where he's been examining the in-bathroom radio system and snorts. "You and I have very different ideas of what's special. That shower could get to second base with me on the first date."

Bruce raises an eyebrow at that and resists making the horribly inappropriate comment that immediately comes to mind as he gestures to the rest of his bedroom and moves away from the bathroom doorway. "This is the end of the tour anyway so we should probably head back downstairs so you can stop flirting with my shower."

"That shower is sexy and deserves all that and more," Barry says, walking out of the bathroom. "You have a ridiculous house.” Barry stops in front of Bruce, not quite in his personal space but he’s close and Bruce feels like they’re both on edge waiting for something to happen, but he’s not sure what.

"I don’t think I’ve ever heard someone call my shower sexy before,or any shower, honestly, it’s interesting," Bruce says with a wry smile. 

Barry laughs, although it’s more of a nervous giggle than anything else, rocking forward on his heels into and then back out of Bruce’s personal space and says, “That sounded like you wanted to say weird but you’re being nice about it.” He looks around the room again, eyes darting to Bruce and then away. 

“Weird is good, it’s interesting,” Bruce says with a shrug; he runs around Gotham at night fighting crime dressed like a bat, weird is where he lives. He steps into Barry’s space, forcing Barry to look at him and says, “I like weird.”

Barry smiles, looking almost shy and says, “I like that you like weird.”

Bruce smiles back, charmed in spite of himself and unable to temper his reaction. He means to suggest they head downstairs, to get explicit confirmation that his assumption about the “solutions” was right but instead he finds himself stepping closer to Barry and kissing him. If one of them had any self -control they’d stop but Barry kisses him back, arms sliding around Bruce’s neck as he opens his mouth to Bruce’s tongue. It’s a terrible idea, but it’s intense and hot and Bruce isn’t interested in stopping.

Barry pulls away first and says, "This is just not the way things normally go,” breathing hard as Bruce’s mouth drifts to his neck. 

“Do you want to stop?” Bruce mumbles against Barry’s neck hoping the answer is no but fully expecting and prepared for a yes. 

Barry snorts and says, “God, no,” pulling Bruce’s head away from his neck to kiss him. “But maybe we can do this on a bed, where a door frame isn’t digging into my back.”

“I can make that happen,” Bruce says, against Barry’s lips as he spins him so his back is away from the wall. He walks Barry backward toward the bed and Barry goes, hand slipping up under the hem of Bruce's sweater to scrape at his back. 

They reach the bed in moments and Bruce is briefly annoyed that the bed is up so high, that bumping into it doesn't immediately result in Barry on his back beneath him. He drops his hands to Barry's ass and lifts him up onto the bed and Barry moans when he drops, hands reaching for Bruce's fly as he sits up. 

"You really, really need to be naked now," Barry says, getting Bruce's belt undone and shoving his pants down. Bruce leans forward and kisses him, then pulls away to mumble, "you too," against his lips as he reaches down to grab the edge of Barry's shirt and pulls it up and over his head.

Bruce straightens up to step out of his pants and take off his own shirt as Barry lifts his hips and pulls down his jeans, kicking his sneakers off in the process. It's not long before they're both naked. Barry smiles at him from where he's leaning back on the bed and says, "Come here," reaching for Bruce.

Bruce goes, following as Barry shifts back until he's laying across the middle of the bed, leaning up to met Bruce as he leans down to kiss him again. It's a slower, dirtier kiss and Bruce can feel Barry's erection pressing against his stomach and he wants so badly that he's almost seeing stars. 

He breaks the kiss to breathe, panting and licking a line up Barry's neck and grinding down so their dicks rub together. Barry gasps. 

"Please tell me you have a condom and lube," Barry says, leg wrapping around Bruce's waist as he rolled his hips in time with Bruce's' thrust. "You're rich, you have to have like a safe sex closet in this house."

Bruce groans, hand sliding to Barry's ass to slot them together a little better. "I have condoms and lube," Bruce says gasping at the friction. He's not sure they'll need either if they keep up like this but he has it. 

Barry's hand grips Bruce's arm as he starts nibbling on Bruce's ear and murmurs, "Get it then. I need you to fuck me."

Bruce groans into Barry's neck and says, "Yes yes, okay," and shifts off of him and crawls over to his bedside table to grab at the sadly full bottle of lube and a condom. Bruce can count on one hand the number of times he's had use for either in the last three years and still have most of a hand free. 

Bruce climbs back over to Barry who's up leaned back on his elbows looking at him. Bruce settles over Barry again and slides a hand up his neck to tilt his head and kiss him before leaning back to open the bottle of lube. He slicks up one finger and slowly eases it into Barry, watching his face as he starts to open him up. 

It's not long before Barry is grinding down on Bruce's finger and saying, "Another, come on, _please_." Bruce doesn't let him beg for long adding a second finger and still rocking them into Barry slowly before he adds a third. He's thinking about adding a fourth, loving watching his fingers slide in and out of Barry when he feels a tug on his hair and Barry says, "Bruce," voice cracking as Bruce's fingers brush against his prostate. 

Bruce nods, slowly draws his fingers out, rolls on the condom and slicks himself up. He settles between Barry's thighs and slowly guides himself in until he's pressed as close as he can get without bending Barry in half. 

He let's most of his weight settle down on Barry, Bruce is sure he can handle it, and slides a hand around to Barry's ass and grips him until they're pressed even closer together and then he starts to move. Bruce starts out slow; long deep thrusts that he takes his time to pull back out, somehow getting harder at the sounds that Barry is panting out in his ear, at the way Barry's fingers are gripping his arms. 

Then Barry slides a hand into Bruce's hair and tugs him down to kiss him and Bruce loses what's left of his self-control and starts fucking Barry hard and fast. Barry bites Bruce's lip as he breaks the kiss to groan against Bruce's mouth, mumbling, "Fuck," as Bruce fucks him harder. 

Bruce isn't going to last long; he can feel his balls tightening, can feel the pressure building but he's tries to hold off to let Barry come first. But then Barry's hand drops to Bruce's waist and he rakes his nails over Bruce's ass, hard enough to leave a mark and Bruce is cumming. Bruce loses track of time as he cums, still thrusting and still hard as his orgasm recedes and he noses at Barry's neck. 

"Did you?" Bruce asks, running a hand up Barry's thigh, still inside of him but no longer thrusting and hoping he gets the answer he wants. 

Barry rocks against him and says, "No, but it’s fine I’ll just," and he doesn't finish just keeps rocking against Bruce as he reaches down to start jerking off. 

Bruce rubs Barry's thigh as he pulls out, slides down and takes Barry in his mouth. He hasn't given a blowjob in longer than he's had sex but he settles right back into it. He peels Barry's fingers away, ignoring the mumbled, “you don’t have to,” and sucks before sliding down to lick up the shaft. As he goes back up he takes his still lube-damp fingers and slides them into Barry and starts fucking him with his fingers as he sucks his dick. 

Barry moans, fingers sliding into Bruce's hair as he rocks down onto Bruce's fingers and fucks his mouth. It doesn't take long; Bruce sucks and then runs his tongue under the head of Barry's dick and then Barry is cumming in his mouth, one hand going tight in Bruce's hair as the other grips the sheets. Bruce doesn’t pull off, swallowing the first few spurts before letting Barry slip from his mouth and a few drops hit his lips and chin. 

Bruce is still mostly hard, oddly, something that hasn’t happened in years, but he doesn't question the luck as he crawls back up over Barry and slides into him again. Barry kisses him, licks the cum off his lips and chin as Bruce slowly rocks into him again. 

"If this is you ready to go again," Barry says, breaking the kiss and gasping against Bruce's mouth. "Give me like five, ten minutes and I'll be ready."

Bruce laughs, tucking his head into Barry's shoulder then gasps as Barry grabs his ass and squeezes, urging him deeper. "I'm 45, I don't know how long this is gonna last."

Barry groans and whispers, “I’m sure you’re an overachiever,” into Bruce’s ear. 

Bruce chokes on a laugh and tries to will himself not to cum, fucking Barry slowly as he waits for him to get hard again. It’s not long before Bruce feels him getting hard between them and he speeds up. Barry wraps his legs around Bruce's waist, rising to meet every thrust and Bruce has a brief flash of doing this again, of bending Barry over his desk in his office downstairs. Bruce groans and starts sucking a mark onto Barry's shoulder. 

"Oh fuck," Barry says, moaning. "Please," he adds hands gripping Bruce hard enough to bruise. Bruce doesn't know why but he peels Barry's hands off his forearms and pushes Barry's arms up over his head, lacing their hands together. 

“Is this okay?” Bruce asks, remembering that they have not discussed anything close to boundaries; boundaries he shouldn’t even be dealing with because they were not supposed to have sex but he’s too far gone to care about his original plans.

"Yes, fuck yes," Barry says, somehow going tighter on Bruce's dick. 

Bruce grips Barry's hands tighter and slows down, still fucking him hard but slow. "You're going to have to cum just from my dick this time," Bruce says, lips grazing Barry's ear. He follows the last word with a slow drag of his dick, in and out, and again. "You can do that for me, right? Come from just this?" Bruce asks, biting down on Barry's ear and hoping like hell that he can. He can feel his second orgasm building, slower than the first but no less intense and he doesn't want to leave Barry behind. 

Barry moans and says, "Shit, shit," rocking up to met Bruce's next thrust and then he's cumming, dick pulsing between them. Bruce groans into Barry's neck then thrusts once, twice more before he's cumming too. 

They lay there breathing heavily for a few minutes before Bruce feels himself going soft and slipping out of Barry and rolls over so he's next to him on his back. He reaches down, pulls off the condom and tosses it toward the trash bin he keeps by his bedside. 

Bruce feels like he just got run over; all of his plans have fallen apart and he doesn't really care. He knows he’ll care later, when his brain isn’t fogged over with the remnants of his orgasm but for now he just feels wired but exhausted.

Barry shifts beside him so he's leaning on one side and says, "You’re not what I expected."

Bruce looks over at him, not bothering to roll over since he's pretty sure his legs don't work anymore and just raises an eyebrow. "What did you expect?" 

"To not have sex the day I met you, to not cum twice," Barry says, looking at Bruce and then looking away toward the headboard. “You know the usual things.”

Bruce snorts.

"Don't get me wrong," Barry says. "That was very, very good and we should definitely do it again."

Bruce almost runs his hand over his face before remembering its covered in cum and lube. He wipes his hand on the bed and shifts until he's also leaning on one hand on his side. "Okay," Bruce says. He reaches out and runs a hand down Barry's chest. He pushes him onto his back and leans over him, almost rolling his eyes at the way Barry goes along with it. "So what are you usually up for if this was the second day we’d met?" Bruce asks, leaning down to kiss him.

Barry giggles against Bruce's mouth and says, "I’m flexible."

"Good to know," Bruce says and kisses him again.

*  
Bruce doesn’t get around to asking his questions that first night, or the next or any of the nights he has Barry come back over the next month. Each time he makes plans to try to find out more about the operation and each time he’s distracted. 

It’s annoying to realize that the ridiculous website questionnaire was right about him needing to get laid.

Mainly it’s luck that Bruce pays attention when Barry starts babbling because he’s constantly dropping bits of useful information. 

Bruce learns in week two that the phone he texts to set up his appointments goes to Barry but that it’s not his personal phone, it’s a phone he was given when they matched him with Bruce so he could have a quick exit if things didn’t work out. 

At the end of the first month Bruce learns that his first payment went to a swiss bank account, then fifty five percent was transferred to Barry while the fixer collected a forty five percent finder's fee that’s transferred again. Now Barry gets a full transfer whenever Bruce makes a deposit. It’s a ton of information but it’s great starting point for Bruce to start dismantling this organization. 

Bruce had already tracked the swiss bank account, but knowing how it was distributing money was a missing piece of the puzzle. He sets up in his office and starts following the money. There’s no simple transfer; it goes to the swiss account, to another and there is when things get interesting as the finders portion is bounced around virtual accounts. 

He’s just getting to the end point of the trail and has found an account linked to an actual human when there’s a knock at the door.

Alfred doesn’t wait for Bruce to ask him in just opens the door and pops his head in, frowning at the stack of items in Bruce’s outbox. “Just wanted to let you know that Mr. Allen is here.”

Bruce blanks for a second. He doesn’t remember scheduling Barry but he’s seen him so much lately that it wouldn’t be a surprise and a quick check of his calendar shows that he did. Bruce sighs. “Can you tell him to make himself at home?” Bruce asks, he’s finally getting somewhere with this search and he doesn’t want to quit just yet. “I need to finish some things up.”

“Of course,” Alfred says, nodding. “He’s already taking full advantage of the tivo in the family room as we speak.”

Bruce rolls his eyes. “Everything on it is something he set it to record the last time he was here,” Bruce says. “But at least that gives me some time to work. Are you done for the night?”

“No, there’s still some wiring I need to do on the suit,” Alfred says, voice low. “I believe I’ll retire below while you entertain your guest.” He sounds amused and Bruce doesn’t want to ask if he’s laughing at the fact that what should have been a simple criminal take down has turned into a month-long whatever this is, or if he’s laughing about Bruce being willing to stop working to have sex. Neither option is something Bruce wants to think about too much.

“Good night, Alfred,” Bruce says turning back to his work. He loses track of time as he digs in to the digital trail. It’s tedious but necessary so Bruce puts his head down and digs in. 

It seems like no time at all has passed when his office door opens again. “You know normally, people don’t schedule me to sit around and watch tv for three hours by myself,” Barry says, walking in to the office. “At least pretend to hang out with me.”

Bruce looks up surprised. “It hasn’t been three hours,” Bruce says, confident even though he hasn’t looked at the clock at all. But Barry has a habit of exaggerating, so Bruce felt sure that it couldn’t have been that long. 

Barry steps farther into the room and sits on the edge of Bruce’s desk. He shrugs, “Maybe it was two, that’s super not the point.” 

“Fair enough,” Bruce says, pinching the bridge of his nose to try to stave off the headache he’s sure is trying to form. “I’m behind on some things for work; I should have canceled for tonight. I’m sure you could have been doing something else.” Bruce very carefully doesn’t think about what Barry could be doing. He knows what Barry does for a living, knows it as he transfers money every other week but he is great at compartmentalizing and it’s better if he puts that knowledge out of mind.

Barry laughs. “I would have been sitting in my underwear eating pizza and watching a Snapped marathon.”

Bruce smiles, slightly. “And now you’ve spent a few hours sitting around not in your underwear eating pizza and watching whatever was on the tivo. A definite upgrade.”

“It’s not too bad,” Barry says with a shrug. “Your TV is bigger, you have HBO and you have a real couch at least but I was still alone.”

Bruce makes a face. “Every new piece of information you drop about your apartment is more horrible than the last,” Bruce says, with a note of disgust in his voice. “Why don’t you have a couch?”

“All of my money goes toward my future education and bills,” Barry says, slipping off the desk. “A couch is a luxury. Anyway, Alfred had dinner delivered a little while ago, are you almost done? You must be ready for a break.”

Bruce glances at the list of transactions he needs to review, there are hundreds in different names left to run down.“Not really.”

“Do you want some motivation to finish this work faster?” Barry asks. He looks at Bruce and smiles briefly before looking away at bookcase, the wall, eyes darting around to take in every little piece of the room. 

“What did you have in mind?” Bruce asks, leaning back in his chair amused.

Barry smiles again and then darts forward and kisses Bruce, pushing his chair back away from his desk. He pulls away and Bruce starts to protest when Barry sinks to his knees and ducks backwards under his desk. 

“Get back to work,” Barry says, voice muffled from under the desk as he slides his hands up Bruce’s thighs. Bruce tries to focus on the next transaction as he feels his fly being undone and his dick starting to stir. 

“Lift up,” Barry says, and Bruce does and tries not to react too much as his pants and underwear and pulled down and Barry wraps a hand around his dick. 

Bruce switches to his email, something that requires less of his attention, as Barry starts to jerk him off and he manages it for a while before he feels the hot wet heat of Barry’s mouth. Bruce groans as Barry’s tongue flicks along the tip before he sucks him deep again. Barry keeps jerking him off as he sucks, pulling off to lick from the tip of Bruce’s dick to the base, pausing to suck at Bruce’s balls. 

“Fuck,” Bruce says, slamming his laptop shut and pushing it toward his outbin as Barry’s tongue works its way back up his dick before he sucks him back in. Bruce braces his hands against the desk and then he’s cumming. Barry doesn’t pull off, just keeps sucking and swallowing until Bruce is spent. “Jesus,” Bruce sighs, breathing hard. Barry pats his knee and then pushes Bruce’s chair back and stands up, cracking his back as he gets clear of the desk.

Barry checks the desk before sitting up on it again, facing Bruce and sounding smug, “So are you finished with your work?”

“No,” Bruce replies, glad to have his breathing under control even if his pants are still around his knees and his dick is out, soft against his stomach. If he can’t look put together he can at least give off that air as much as possible. 

Barry makes a face. “Are you going to be up all night working? Should I ...go?” Barry asks, eyes darting to the laptop that’s been haphazardly tossed in the out mail bin. “I should go right? I know I can get kind of distracting.”

“I like your kind of distracting,” Bruce says, standing up and moving into Barry’s space. Bruce kisses him and tastes himself on Barry’s tongue. Barry spreads his legs to let Bruce step in closer until they’re pressed together as much as they can be. “Just because I’m not done doesn’t mean I’m working any more tonight,” Bruce says breaking the kiss, not bothering to drop his hands from where they’ve settled on Barry’s ass. 

“Yeah,” Barry says, smiling that ridiculous smile that lights up his whole face and makes Bruce want to do something stupid. “Cool.”

*  
“Where the fuck,” Barry says, voice hushed. 

Bruce rolls toward the voice and realizes that he’s alone in bed. He spends a few seconds blinking himself awake staring at the ceiling before looking at the clock on the bedside table that’s flashing 3:20 am.

“What are you doing?” Bruce asks, voice still raspy from letting Barry fuck his mouth as a reward for that under the desk blow job. “It’s three in the damn morning, Barry.” 

Bruce hears Barry bump into something and snorts. 

“Shit, sorry,” Barry says, still whispering. “I was trying not to wake you. I swear I’m usually better at this.”

Bruce sits up and leans back against the headboard and turns on the reading lamp. “Sorry, what exactly are you better at?”

“Uh,” Barry says, blinking at the minimal light the reading lamp casts in the room. “Leaving? Without making a ton of noise or tripping over every single thing in this room? I fell asleep and kind of overshot my usual exit routine.” 

Barry runs a hand through his hair and looks around himself at the floor. “And now I can’t find my pants.”

Bruce raises an eyebrow at Barry. He’s standing in the middle of the bedroom wearing a t-shirt and nothing else. “Can’t find your boxers either huh?” Bruce says, amused. 

“You think this is funny but you took them off of me, technically you lost them,” Barry says, annoyed. 

Bruce shrugs. “They’re in this room. You can find them in the morning, come back to bed.”

“That’s very sweet but I know you’re not really into me sleeping over,” Barry says, hands on his hips as he glares at the floor. “You have this whole,” he pauses to wave a hand in the air, “ _thing_ when I’m still here when you’re trying to go to sleep.”

Bruce snorts. “I don’t have a whatever the hell that was.”

“You literally get weird when I’m here too late,” Barry says, giving Bruce a look. 

Bruce rolls his eyes and starts to say something cutting when he realizes Barry is thinking about the times when he got an alert on his phone from the police scanner and needed to get out. The first time it happened he’d practically pushed Barry out of the house.

“Maybe I get a little weird about it,” Bruce says conceding defeat. “But I’m not saying it now, come back to bed.”

Barry frowns at him and steps closer to the bed. “If you change your mind halfway through the night I’ll kill you,” Barry says, lowering his voice and shrugging. 

“I’ll be sure to keep that in mind in the three hours we’ve got before morning,” Bruce says, holding out a hand to Barry. He doesn’t know why he’s suddenly so adamant about Barry staying over. He’s awake enough, they could turn on the lights and find the pants Bruce is sure got kicked under the bed, but for some reason he’s not ready for Barry to leave. 

Barry takes his hand and let’s Bruce pull him over to the bed. He climbs up onto the bed and then swings a leg over Bruce’s lap to straddle him. Bruce hadn’t bothered to find his own boxers before falling asleep and having Barry warm and naked in his lap is waking him up more.

“You really need to not be so nice to me,” Barry says, hands dropping on Bruce’s shoulders. 

“When am I that nice to you?” Bruce says, amused. He slides his hands up under the hem of Barry’s t-shirt pulling it up and off. “Pretty sure I just made fun of you not being able to find your pants,” Bruce adds, hand sliding back down to Barry’s ass. 

“You let me eat all of your food, I have free reign of your tivo and you’re letting my spend the night,” Barry says, reaching down and running his fingers over the head of Bruce’s dick. “I was annoyed, I shouldn’t even be touching you.”

Bruce pauses his fingers in their slow creep along Barry’s ass. “Do you want to stop?” Bruce asks. He _wants_ , probably too much, but he’s never been interested in unwilling partners. 

“God, no,” Barry says, hand gripping Bruce’s dick and starting to jerk him off slowly. “I want you all of the time, that’s kind of the problem.”

“That’s not really a problem for me,” Bruce says and then he kisses him.

Bruce isn’t fully hard, not yet, but with the way Barry is working him it’s only a matter of time. 

Bruce pulls Barry closer and keeps kissing him, slow and dirty the way he likes and let’s his fingers drift down to Barry’s hole. He’s still slick from earlier but when Bruce pushes a finger in to test he’s tight. Barry breaks the kiss and leans their foreheads together panting as he pushes back on Bruce’s finger. It’s not long before Bruce is working a second finger into Barry and Barry is gasping into his neck. 

“Bruce,” Barry gasps as Bruce adds a third finger. The angle is a little awkward but Bruce is flexible enough to get an okay rhythm going as his fingers move in and out of Barry’s ass. 

“Enough,” Barry says, fingers sliding into Bruce’s hair and pulling hard. 

Bruce leans his head back to look at Barry; his mouth swollen, eyes blown and sweat starting to gather at his temples and says, “Are you sure?”, trying for amused and missing it by a mile. 

Barry laughs, a breathless, gasping sound and says, “Don’t be a tease,” and reaches back to slap Bruce’s arm. Bruce takes the hint and slowly pulls his fingers out, sliding his hand back up to grip Barry’s hips. Barry shifts forward, rising up on his knees and reaches down to grab Bruce’s dick, lining it up with him before he slowly starts to sink down. 

It’s slow and it’s hot and Bruce can’t hear anything except his own heart pounding as Barry sinks on to him inch by inch until he’s seated and all Bruce can focus on is tight heat. He kisses Barry to stop himself from moving and then groans when Barry starts rolling his hips. 

Bruce’s fingers tighten on Barry’s hips and then he starts meeting each roll of his hips with a thrust, building a slow, hard rhythm that has them clinging to each other hard enough to bruise. It’s not going to last long, Bruce can already feel that familiar pulse in his spine and the slow drag of Barry’s dick against his stomach. “You’re close right,” Bruce mumbles, thrusts going a little erratic

“Yeah, yes,” Barry says, moaning as he responds, fingers gripping Bruce’s shoulders even tighter. 

“Good, good,” Bruce says as he reaches down and grabs Barry’s dick and starts jerking him off. 

It’s not long after that before Barry is cumming all over Bruce’s hand and stomach. And then Bruce is following after him, thrusting up two more times before he’s cumming and collapsing back against the headboard breathing hard. They don’t move for a while, Barry laying on top of him and Bruce not quite soft enough to slip out of him. 

“Just so you know,” Barry says, breathe tickling Bruce’s collar as he leans his head on his shoulder, “cuddling is on the table if I spend the night.”

Bruce snorts. “Is that a rule?” Bruce asks, running a hand down Barry’s back. He wouldn’t exactly be anti-cuddling in general but it doesn’t seem like the right thing to mention. 

“Yup,” Barry says yawning. “I just made it up.”

“Good to know you’re on your toes like that at four in the morning,” Bruce says, trying not to laugh. “We should clean up.”

Barry doesn’t say anything for a minute, squirming as Bruce slips out of him and then says, “Later, it’ll be morning soon we can do it then.”

“Okay,” Bruce says, letting Barry fall asleep on him even though he knows they’ll both regret waiting in the morning. 

*  
Bruce wakes up late the next morning with an itchy stomach covered in dried cum and finger shaped bruises on his arms. Barry is still asleep, sprawled out on his stomach with one arm still hooked across Bruce’s chest. Bruce feels suddenly, overwhelmingly fond and also like he wants to run away as far as he can. 

He gets up, showers and tries to shake off the overwhelming feeling that he should cut his losses with tracking down the fixer and stop seeing Barry as soon as possible. 

Bruce is mostly dressed by the time Barry starts to stir, just down to picking out a tie and shoes so he can start scrolling through the news from last night. 

“Oh god,” Barry says, voice muffled from where his face is pressed into the pillows. 

Bruce rolls his eyes, that weird thread of fondness is still there even if he does want to run. “You’re going to have to use your words better than that,” Bruce says, settling on a blue checked tie. 

Barry lifts his head and leans up on his elbows and glares at Bruce. “What time is it?” Barry asks, still not moving much out of the bed. 

“Nearly nine,” Bruce says, glancing at the bedside table. 

“Shit,” Barry says, rolling over and off the other side of the bed. His feet hit the floor and he hisses and limps toward the bathroom. 

Bruce raises an eyebrow at the limp. “Are you okay?” Bruce asks following him to the bathroom. He didn’t think they were rough last night.

Barry waves him away. “I’m fine, just stiff and a little sore,” Barry says. “And I might miss my class this morning.”

“I thought you were saving for school, not actually in school,” Bruce says, surprised. His patrol schedule doesn’t allow for him to have Barry at the manor every night but he’s pretty sure he would have heard something about classes before now. 

Barry shrugs. “I’m only taking one class at a time right now and it’s for my masters,” Barry says as he steps into the shower. “Technically I’m saving so I can eventually go full time and not starve,” he yells over the sound of the spray. 

“Huh,” Bruce says surprised before he leaves him to it and starts reading through the news. It bothers him that he didn’t know that Barry was still actively in school, that he didn’t ask and that somehow Barry still thinks he’s nice to him. 

Barry is out of the shower before Bruce has picked out shoes and lights up when he sees his boxers and pants laid across the foot of the bed. “Where’d you find them?” Barry asks, dropping his towel to pull on his boxers. 

“Under the bed,” Bruce says, trying and failing not to watch. “I think they got kicked under last night.”

Barry laughs. “We should probably be more careful about that,” he says, grabbing his t-shirt from the far side of the bed. 

“Or you can just plan on spending the night and not bother looking for clothes in the dark,” Bruce says, not looking up from his phone. There’s something weird about the news about the terrorist attack in Midway City; there’s no death count, no organization claiming responsibility nothing but vague reports that the national guard is on the ground. 

“So last night wasn’t just a one time, late night lapse of judgement thing?” Barry asks. “It’s fine if it was, I know people get weird and it was three in the morning right? Do you know how much weird stuff I’ve said at three in the morning? Sometimes you have ridiculously intense sex and like, you didn’t need to hear about my ridiculous crush on you when you were just being nice and-”

“Please shut up,” Bruce says, cutting Barry off. He smirks at the offended look on Barry’s face and steps into his space and slides a hand up Barry’s neck and brushes his thumb across his bottom lip. “It wasn’t just a one time thing, okay?” Bruce doesn’t understand why he’s not still freaking out, why he’s not taking the out but he wants Barry and he doesn’t want to try to pretend otherwise. 

“Okay,” Barry says. “That’s good, that’s cool. Do you uh, do you want my real phone number then? I think I’ve known you long enough to know you’re not going to axe murder me or something.”

Bruce laughs and asks, “What?”

Barry rolls his eyes. “You know what. I told you they gave me a phone when they matched me with you, it’s for my protection if you get weird. But that’s not my _real_ phone.”

“Does this mean I have to give you my real phone number?” Bruce asks. “I’m not overly fond of communicating via emoji.”

Barry snorts. “You are such an ass,” Barry says. “I know how to string together a sentence. Sometimes I can even work up a paragraph.”

“Impressive.” 

“Maybe you don’t need my real phone number,” Barry says, annoyed. “I’ll ditch the pre-paid phone and you can contact me via carrier pigeon.”

Bruce rolls his eyes. “You wouldn’t want to deal with the droppings,” Bruce says, amused. “Guess you’ll have to give me your number anyway.”

“Ugh,” Barry says, clearly trying not to laugh. He snatches Bruce’s phone out of his hand and types in his number then hands it back. “All set.”

“Good,” Bruce says, pocketing his phone. “I probably won’t be around to make any plans for tonight.”

Barry smiles at Bruce, looks away and shrugs, “I don’t expect you to want me here everyday.” He looks over at the clock on the bedside table, frowns and says, “And now I really do have to run, call me whenever.” Then he darts forward, kisses Bruce on the cheek and runs out. 

Bruce shakes his head at Barry and himself for his earlier panic, Barry might be an escort but he’s not needlessly complicating things so it’s fine.

*

Bruce still can’t shake the feeling that there’s something more going on with the Midway City attack. He’s in his office at Wayne Enterprises when an updated news story on the clean up mentions ARGUS and he immediately emails Alfred to set up a meeting with Amanda Waller. 

Waller agrees to meet that night in Coast City, if he can make it. Bruce cancels the rest of his schedule and has Alfred prep the jet, annoyed at having to accommodate a ridiculous request to fly across the country just to get information.

He books out a small restaurant in Coast City for the evening and flies out for the meeting. 

“Do we have a strategy for dealing with Ms. Waller or are we going to wing it?” Alfred says as they prepare for their descent. 

Bruce looks up from the latest vague report about Midway City and frowns. “I think the direct approach is best with her. I’m sure whatever happened has something to do with people with abilities.”

Alfred nods. “Undoubtedly, but did they cause it or stop it?”

“I suspect both but we’ll just need to see.”

Dinner with Waller is tense, but nothing outside of what Bruce expects. She makes vague threats, Bruce makes some in return but in the end he offers protection in exchange for a run down of what happened in Midway City and a file on people with abilities. 

He’s been vaguely thinking about putting together a team in case something else otherworldly happens and with the disaster that was Midway City it seems that he needs to work faster. 

After the meeting Bruce takes his seat on the plane, pulls out the file, opens it and freezes. It’s different hair and clearly taken from surveillance video but he’s spent enough time with Barry in his house, _in his bed_ to recognize him at a glance. Bruce doesn’t know how to process what he’s looking at. He knows that Barry doesn’t owe him anything, that he shouldn’t expect to have been told but it still makes him feel something he can’t quite identify being surprised by that familiar face. 

“How much information do we have?” Alfred asks, settling in to the seat across from Bruce. Bruce nearly startles, surprised that he is so off balance that he didn’t hear Alfred approach. He hands him the file and sighs.

“Not much,” Bruce says. “We don’t know anything about their abilities, or where they are beyond some references to last known locations. But there are some _surprises_ in there.”

Alfred hums and opens the file. He flips through and pauses. “I see,” Alfred says looking up from a page Bruce is sure holds Barry’s face. “Will you be speaking to Mr. Allen when we get back to Gotham tonight?”

“No,” Bruce says, leaning back in his chair. “We need to do a more extensive background check on him first. I don’t want any more surprises.”

Alfred squints at him. “Are you thinking we employ a few private detectives or shall I be taking on the role for the time being?”

Bruce gives him a look. This is too important for any of Alfred’s so called jokes. “Let’s keep this in house please, this is too important to trust to anyone else.”

“Understood,” Alfred says. “Still, I think it would not hurt to talk to Mr. Allen, you seem to have developed a rapport with him.”

Bruce raises an eyebrow at him. “Yes, clearly as demonstrated by how I had no idea he had powers,” Bruce says. “We can get more information on him. But there’s enough here to try to track down this other guy.”

“Very well,” Alfred says giving Bruce a look he can’t read. “I’ll file the flight manifest for Norway and we’ll be ready to depart first thing tomorrow morning.”

“Good,” Bruce says, nodding.

*  
They’re in Norway for three weeks before they find the right isolated coastal village to try to make contact with Arthur Curry. Bruce has to hike into town and even though he does find Curry, it’s mostly a bust. Maybe he will step up if he’s needed but so far the only thing Bruce has accomplished is making contact with someone who might be as much of a loner as him. 

They head back to Gotham reviewing the additional information Alfred has managed to gather on Barry. 

“We’ve had some luck obtaining additional information on Mr. Allen,” Alfred starts, pulling up a series of images on the screen that takes up half a wall in the plane. “In theory he’s from Central City but in practice he’s living completely off the grid. Squatting I think, he moves suddenly and often.”

Alfred pauses to switch images and says, “You gave me a few interesting tidbits of information. That cell phone number is for a pay as you go phone and I can find no record of him taking classes at any university but he does appear on the surveillance at both Central City University and Gotham University.”

“Is this over the last few years?” Bruce asks. “Central City is nearly a thousand miles away from Gotham.”

Alfred brings up the surveillance. “I believe these two were taken days apart. But we do have a lead. He visits his father. In prison for murdering his mother.”

“Jesus,” Bruce mutters. He’s pretty sure he knows what bills Barry’s been paying if this is the kind of life he’s leading.

“Young Barry always protested his father’s innocence,” Alfred says, pushing on. “But he was nine and nobody listened to him.”

“We have somebody at the prison?” Bruce asks, looking away from the screen.

Alfred nods. “We should have a current location for him by the time we arrive back in the states,” He gives Bruce a look. “Or you could use the phone number he gave you and call him and save us all a few steps.”

“No,” Bruce says, voice firm. “This is the better strategy.”

“In what way?” Alfred says. “You’ve known him for months, and I was under the impression your relationship had shifted away from transactions,” Alfred adds raising an eyebrow at Bruce. 

Bruce ignores the raised eyebrow and the tone. Things were shifting but that’s irrelevant to their need to build this team. “Whatever relationship we did or did not have doesn’t matter. The only thing that matters is getting this team together so we can protect the world.”

Alfred rolls his eyes but doesn’t question it and they both spend the rest of the flight trying to get some work done.

A few hours after they land in Gotham they’ve had a visit from Diana and they’ve got an address on Barry; Bruce flies to Central City the next day. 

*

There’s a padlock on the door of the warehouse Barry is squatting in when Bruce gets there. He considers cutting it before heading up to the roof and entering from there. The power is out when he makes it down to the first floor. There are tv screens and computer monitors everywhere and two desk chairs. There’s no couch, like Barry had mentioned and the bed is a single sectioned off from the rest of the room with a shower curtain. 

It’s depressing. 

Bruce takes a seat in the chair with the higher back and waits. 

It’s not a long wait before a breaker is flipped and the lights come on. When Barry steps into the room Bruce turns his chair around and says, “Barry.”

“Bruce,” Barry says, wary. “Do you want to explain why you’re sitting in my second favorite chair? I haven’t heard from you in a _month_ and now you’re in my place? What do you want?”

Bruce stands up and walks toward Barry pulling one of the surveillance pictures from Waller’s file out of his coat pocket. “Tell me about this,” Bruce says resisting the urge to roll his eyes when Barry snatches it out of his hands.

Barry looks at it and says, “This is a person who looks exactly like me but is _definitely_ not me. A very attractive jewish boy.”

Bruce rolls his eyes and wanders over to the mannequin in the center of the room. It’s clearly still a bit of a work in progress but there’s no denying it’s something someone with abilities would wear if they were thinking about going out to help people. 

“Maybe this is your latest gentleman friend?” Barry continues, getting more into whatever the hell he was doing. “Did he steal your pocket watch? Your railroads? I don’t know what kind of weird rich people things you own.”

“I know you have abilities,” Bruce says, cutting in. “I just don’t know what they are.”

Barry gives him a look. “My special skills include viola, web design, fluent in sign language,” Barry starts. “Well, gorilla sign language and you’re pretty familiar with most of my other soft skills.”

Bruce closes his eyes and takes three deep breaths to avoid saying something he’ll regret. He looks at the suit and starts listing out it’s properties. “Silica-based quartz sand fabric, abrasion resistant, heat resistant,” he says turning to look back at Barry. 

“Yeah, I do competitive ice dancing.”

“It’s what they use on the space shuttle to prevent it from burning up on re-entry,” Bruce says, giving Barry a look of disbelief. He expected Barry to be difficult but this is ridiculous.

“I do very competitive ice dancing,” Barry says with a shrug. “Listen this has been a really weird surprise post-ghosting visit but whoever you’re looking for it’s not me.”

Bruce ignores him and throws a batarang at him to see how he reacts. Barry moves between one blink and the next, faster than Bruce ever imagined people can move. 

“You’re the batman?” Barry asks, surprise clear across his face.

“So you’re fast,” Bruce says, not answering the question and still shocked at what he’s just seen. He’s seen Barry trip over his own feet, multiple times, how did he miss this super speed. 

“That feels like an oversimplification,” Barry says, making a face. “So the Batman pays people to keep him company? And then sleeps with them only to ghost them? Is this what you do for fun?”

“What?” Bruce says, surprised and not sure what to react to first. “I don’t pay people to keep me company.”

Barry snorts. “You paid me to keep you company. You were supposed to be my like platonic sugar daddy. That really did not go the way I planned.”

“I wasn’t your sugar daddy,” Bruce says, stumbling over the unfamiliar phrase. “You’re an escort.”

Barry’s face goes blank. “No, I’m not?” Barry says, speaking slowly. “Are you serious right now?”

“You kissed me an hour after we met!”

“You kissed me first! And you were flirting with me!” Barry replies, going red. “Sure it was weird and awkward, but you were totally flirting with me and you were hot! Do you know how often hot, older guys flirt with me? Because it’s a word that rhymes with leather.”

Bruce glares at him. “Because I thought I’d paid you for sex,” Bruce says grinding out each word. This conversation has him off balance and he’s not sure how he could have misread things so much. “I didn’t come here to fight with you.”

“Great,” Barry says, voice dripping with false cheer. “Then please get out.”

“I’m putting together a team of people with special abilities. I believe enemies are coming.”

Barry holds up a hand and says, “Stop right there. Sure, fine enemies are coming, teamwork and all that is great. I’m definitely in on the team thing as long as it’s not just you.”

“You are?” Bruce asks, startled. He’d thought Barry would take more convincing. 

“Yes,” Barry says, empathically. “I need,” he stops and looks at Bruce. “That’s not important, but yes I’m in. I just need to know something.”

Bruce is wary but he says, “Okay.”

“Did you disappear because you found out I had abilities? Like is that why you, you know decided to lose my number,” Barry asks. “I’m not going to back out of the team I just need to know the lay of the land here. Thinking you’re sleeping with a hooker is one thing but a hooker with abilities? Too much.”

Bruce frowns. “Yes,” he says, telling the truth to avoid it coming back to bite him later. “But-,” he doesn’t get to finish before Barry cuts him off. 

“You don’t need to explain,” Barry says. “I got it. We’re good.”

Bruce opens his mouth to say something then snaps it shut. “Barry, it’s not.” Bruce is pretty sure he’s screwed up in a way he can’t see and he doesn’t know how to get out of it.

“It’s fine,” Barry says, even though his face clearly says it’s _not_. “I’m glad we’re on the same page. So I guess we’re like strangers to the rest of the team, right? I mean you couldn’t really explain how you know me since you’ve spent the last few months thinking I was a hooker and I’ve spent the last few months thinking about if I could afford to date you and not be a professional companion. So uh. Yeah,” Barry says shrugging.

“If that’s what you want,” Bruce says, trying and failing to figure out a way that this could get worse. 

Barry nods, quickly even though his face doesn’t match his words. “It is, it’s for the best.”

“Right, okay,” Bruce says, knowing it’s not. “We should get going to the airport, my plane’s on standby to take us back to Gotham.”

 

*  
The flight back to Gotham is awkward. Before takeoff Barry zips off and comes back with a pizza and spends half of the flight eating, quietly. He doesn’t babble or poke at things or any of the dozen little habits that Bruce has come to expect from him. 

Diana meets them on the runway in Gotham and raises an eyebrow at Bruce that he doesn’t want to deal with when she looks between him and Barry. Bruce ignores it because they have work to do.

Diana ignores him and looks to Barry. “You must be Barry, I’m Diana.”

Barry looks dazed. “Hi Barry, I’m Diana,” he says and then mumbles. “That’s not right.”

Bruce doesn’t react. It’s fine. Diana is a beautiful woman and Barry can be as nervous around her as he wants. It’s fine. After that things speed up. They go from meeting with Commissioner Gordon and gaining another ally to tracking down Steppenwolf in a matter of hours. As they stop to get a count of the hostages and demon bugs before attacking, Bruce finds Barry freaking out. 

Bruce corners Barry a little ways away from the rest of the team; it’s not much privacy but they don’t really have time for anyone to have a real private conversation. 

It’s only a few moments before Barry turns to him, after looking into the space where Steppenwolf is holding the hostages, panic clear on his face. “Here’s the thing, i’m afraid of bugs, guns, obnoxiously tall people and murder,” Barry says, barely pausing to take a breath. “It’s really cool you guys seem ready to do battle but i’ve never done battle. I’ve just kind of pushed some people and run away.”

“Save one,” Bruce says. He’s not really one for pep talks or inspiring people to do what needs to be done but he’s willing to try, a little, for Barry. 

Barry blinks. “Which one?”

“Don’t talk, dont fight. Get in get one out,” Bruce says, willing Barry to get it, to understand what he’s having such a hard time explaining. 

“And then?” Barry asks, looking a little less panicked but with that familiar thread of nervousness in his voice. 

Bruce nearly smiles and says, “Then you’ll know,” and hopes Barry gets it.

“Okay,” Barry says and then the fight is on.

Bruce loses track of Barry for a while during the fight, but the hostages disappear and he’s happy that his advice worked so they can focus on trying to take down Steppenwolf. They never really get a true upper hand in the fight, destroying some of his seemingly endless parade of para demons but the hostages are out and they survive. 

They regroup at the Batcave with the motherbox in hand. It feels, briefly, like they’re making some progress even if he’s at odds with Diana and Barry is back to treating him like someone he met for the first time six hours ago. Eventually they come to a consensus about trying to bring back Clark, work out the plan and get going. 

Bruce doesn’t know how Clark will feel about being brought back but they need someone to bring them together, to inspire people and it’s not him. 

*  
The effort to bring back Clark is a _disaster_. 

When they get back to the batcave things are tense. Arthur throws a tantrum and nearly starts a fight with Victor, which Diana is able to defuse because she’s the people person. Once things have calmed down a bit Diana gets Victor to start looking for Steppenwolf, and Bruce heads off to deal with what he’s sure is a dislocated shoulder and to drink. He talks to Diana and it helps but he still sends her back down to the batcave ahead of him so he can drink and brood alone.

Bruce is alone and awkwardly trying to ice a different part of his back for maybe five minutes before he hears the now-familiar sound of Barry speeding through the hallway. 

“Hey,” Barry says as he speeds to a stop in the doorway. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine,” Bruce says, unable to stop himself from groaning as he moves. His back is covered in bruises and he’s sure it’s just a matter of time before his neck starts to match. 

Barry snorts and steps further into the room. “You want to try that again?” Barry asks, tilting his head at the extra ice pack on the table and the drink in Bruce’s hand. “I know you have that whole tough guy Batman thing but like, Superman did pick you up and throw you.”

Bruce raises an eyebrow at Barry. “Yes, _I know._ I was there.”

“Look at you, making jokes,” Barry says, laughing. “Come on, let me help you.”

Normally Bruce would send him back down to research but things have been awkward and Bruce is willing to do the opposite of his instincts to get back on some solid ground. He rolls his eyes and says, “Fine,” and tosses his ice pack to Barry and immediately regrets it when his shoulder protests.

Bruce closes his eyes, groans and tries to roll his shoulder. “It’s possible I’m slightly more injured than I thought.”

Barry gives him a look. “What a surprise.” He gestures toward one of the chaises in the room and says, “Sit down and take off your shirt.”

Bruce briefly considers making a comment on the orders but thinks better of it. He puts down his drink, takes off the shirt he wears under the suit and takes a seat. He feels Barry kneeling behind him on the chair.

“Okay so where have you iced, where have you not iced?” Barry asks. Bruce can feel his hands hovering over his shoulders almost but not quite touching. “Tell Dr. Barry where it hurts.”

“I’m going to ignore that for both of us,” Bruce says with a snort. “I’ve iced my shoulders and upper back, you walked in on me trying to get the low back.”

Barry hmms. “Okay cool,” Barry says before zipping away and back. Bruce doesn’t even try to shift away as Barry places the ice packs along his lower back and reaches around him to start wrapping ace bandages around Bruce’s waist to hold them in place.

“You know, back when I was in middle school and got beaten up all of the time I learned that the icy hot thing really works for bruising,” Barry says, doing something with his hands.

Bruce tries to look over his shoulder but his range of motion is even worse than usual. “What exactly are you doing?” Bruce asks, giving up on seeing what’s happening. 

“Taking advantage of my speed to heat up my hands,” Barry says before he lays his unnaturally hot hands on Bruce’s shoulders and starts working his way down. “Hopefully you’ve numbed things down enough for this to work.”

Bruce doesn’t respond as Barry works his hands back down and then up again to Bruce’s shoulders before taking his hands away to heat them back up and start again. He tries not to let any of the sounds his body wants to make out so when Barry’s hands land on his shoulders again he bites back a groan and asks, “Does this mean you’re not mad at me any more?”

“No,” Barry says then sighs. “Yes. I guess I get it now, you know?” 

“Not really,” Bruce says, biting his lip to stop himself from moaning as Barry’s hands hit one of the more sore spots on his back. 

“After getting the crap kicked out of us by Superman? I get why you freaked out when you found out I had powers,” Barry says, sighing again. “You have this person, who you think is an escort - real fucked up by the way- in your house and in your bed, and like you didn’t really know me. Things were always intense but then it feels like something is shifting and then you find out they have powers? I get the freak out.”

“Barry.”

“It sucks,” Barry says, barely pausing as he seems to try to say as much as possible as quickly as possible. “And I’m not going to pretend like it didn’t hurt my feelings but you know maybe this is better and we can be friends,” Barry says, shrugging but not continuing on with whatever he was trying to say. He stops moving and rests his hands on Bruce’s shoulders. “Better?”

Bruce nods. His back does feel better even if he’s very confused. “You really think we can be friends?” Bruce asks. He wants to respond to several of the things Barry’s said but he can’t figure out where to start, so he starts at the end. 

Barry climbs off of the chair behind Bruce and zips around to stand in front of him. “Sure,” Barry says. “I need friends and you mostly get me so,” he shrugs. “We can start over.”

Bruce stands up and stretches; his back feels much better. He’ll still be stiff later but now at least he’s ready for a fight or another day of research. “Okay,” Bruce says, focusing on Barry again. He doesn’t want to just be Barry’s friend but Bruce knows it’s probably a better idea in the long run. He has a terrible track record with people and he wants this team to work. Bruce holds out a hand to Barry and says, “Bruce Wayne,” when Barry grabs it and shakes. 

“Barry Allen, nice to meet you,” Barry says. 

Bruce smiles, slightly and says, “You too.” And then he’s not sure how it happens, he doesn’t intend to move forward but Barry smiles and then looks down, biting his lip in that way he does when he’s nervous and before Bruce has time to think, to stop himself, they’re kissing. 

It’s a relief to be kissing Barry again, like Bruce has been slowly wandering the desert and he’s just found an oasis. He loses track of time but eventually Barry pulls away and tries to put some space between them. 

“Um,” Barry says, eyes wide. “That uh, that wasn’t really what I planned on with this whole fresh start friend thing.”

“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” Bruce asks, trying his best not to crowd Barry up against the wall and kiss him again. 

“It’s not _not_ a good thing,” Barry says, voice lilting up into a question at the end. “If that makes sense?”

“It does,” Bruce says, stepping into Barry’s space. Barry holds up a hand and stops Bruce before he can kiss him again. 

“This is terrible timing,” Barry says, laughing. “So we just have to put a pin in things until after we find Steppenwolf.”

Bruce raises an eyebrow at him. “You’re serious?” Bruce asks, incredulous. 

“Very,” Barry says, nodding. “We should talk, like really talk instead of agreeing to be friends and then making out or having sex or whatever was about to happen in here. But not now. After we get back if we don’t get ourselves killed fighting this ancient whatever the hell he is. But now, now we need to get back to the others.”

“Okay,” Bruce says slowly, shocked that someone other than him is taking the relatively responsible track. “Obviously, we need to get back to work. But I’m holding you to this talking thing.”

Barry gives him a look. “Only one of us went silent for a month and left the country rather than have a conversation and it wasn’t me,” Barry says and then he zips away.

Bruce frowns and says, “Okay, fair,” to the empty space where Barry was standing. 

*  
They survive. 

It’s a great moment, knowing that his plan has succeeded, that now he has a team to pull together to stop global threats instead of fruitlessly trying to fight them alone. 

It’s a good feeling and Bruce rides that wave on the long flight home. They all go their separate ways when they get back and while Bruce has a lot of things to make right, this at least is starting as something good. 

He heads up into the manor, stopping to take a few bites of the dinner Alfred set out for him before he heads up to his bedroom. He’s taken two steps into his bedroom when he hears the shower running and frowns. Bruce walks over to the bathroom, shedding clothes as he goes until he’s down to his boxers and stops in the doorway unsure for a second about his next step. 

They’d made plans to _talk_ but Bruce needs a shower and honestly he’d rather saw his arms off than talk about anyone’s feelings about anything. 

Barry yells and jumps back toward the wall as Bruce steps into the shower. “Warn a guy, at least.”

Bruce glares at him and reaches past him to grab a bottle of body wash. “You do remember you’re in my shower, in my bathroom, right?” Bruce says turning to face the second set of shower heads behind him. He starts lathering up quickly, using the body wash as shampoo for efficiency. 

Bruce hears a snort from behind him before Barry’s hands snake around his waist and he leans his chin on Bruce’s shoulder. 

“It’s still like, _polite_ , to warn that you’re coming in,” Barry says. “Also normally I’d be very on board with the whole body wash as shampoo thing because shampoo is expensive but you’re rich. What the hell?”

Bruce rolls his eyes but doesn’t do anything to make Barry move his arms or his chin, even if it is digging into Bruce’s shoulder. It’s odd that having Barry pressed up against him, wet and naked doesn’t feel sexual, it feels _normal_. “I’m tired and sore, this isn’t a time for making the effort to shampoo. My hair will survive.”

“That’s fair,” Barry says, nodding against Bruce’s shoulder before he steps away, back toward the shower heads on the other side.

Bruce shakes his head and finishes washing up, rinsing the dirt, sand and grit from his hair and then turns to find Barry standing under the spray with his face tilted up toward the water. Bruce can’t help the smile that creeps across his face. “What are you doing?” Bruce asks, trying not to laugh.

“I’m communing with the glorious water pressure,” Barry says, shifting his face away from the spray. “I’ve missed this shower with it’s non-weak spray and hot water that lasts for more than five minutes.”

Bruce steps up behind Barry, hands dropping to his waist and kisses behind his ear. “Well, I guess I’m glad you missed something around here.”

Barry laughs, leaning back against him as Bruce’s teeth graze his ear. “Wow fishing much?”  
Barry says, amused. 

“Just trying to get a lay of the land,” Bruce says, rubbing his dick against Barry’s ass. He’s only half hard but he’s sure he’ll be the rest of the way there shortly and he’s much better at this part of things, so he’s willing and ready to use sex as a distraction to get out of talking. 

“I didn’t have time to miss you, I was too mad,” Barry says, leaning his head back on Bruce’s shoulder as he grinds back on Bruce’s dick. “And we’re supposed to be talking tonight, _just talking_.” 

Bruce snorts and runs a hand down Barry’s stomach and brushes his knuckles along Barry’s dick, smiling into his neck when Barry arches back against him moaning. 

“Do you want to stop?” Bruce asks, drawing his hand away from Barry’s dick, back to his stomach already sure of the answer he’s going to get. “We can get dressed, go downstairs and make some tea while we _talk_.”

Barry moans as Bruce runs his fingers along his dick again. “You are such an asshole,” Barry says, grabbing Bruce’s hand and wrapping it around his dick. 

“I’m just trying to give you options here,” Bruce says, slowly jerking Barry off. 

Barry snaps his elbow back toward Bruce’s stomach. Bruce blocks it and laughs. 

“You would leave this planet to avoid a conversation,” Barry says as he gives up. “Stop being such a tease and fuck me already.”

He reaches for the bottle of body wash and pours a generous amount in his hand and Bruce starts to ask, “what are you do-” before Barry’s hand is reaching back, grabbing Bruce’s dick and slicking him up. “Really?” Bruce asks as he stops jerking Barry off to lean back and watch him finger himself.

“Efficiency, remember?” Barry says, groaning as he opens himself up. He slowly drags his fingers out and the braces his hands on the wall of the shower, looking over his shoulder at Bruce and raising an eyebrow. 

Bruce shakes his head as he drops a hand to Barry’s waist. “You’re ridiculous,” Bruce says, lining his dick up against Barry and pushing forward, slowly. 

Barry gasps as Bruce pushes forward and says, “You love me,” spreading his legs as Bruce bottoms out inside of him. 

“I like you okay,” Bruce mumbles, lips grazing Barry’s ear, breathing to center himself before rolling his hips. Barry leans back against him, hand sliding back up Bruce’s neck and into his hair and tugs. “Pretty sure I told you to stop teasing,” Barry says, shifting his hips back as Bruce thrusts slightly. 

Bruce chuckles against Barry’s neck. It’s barely a laugh, he doesn’t have the breathe for that and says, “You did,” before thrusting hard and starting to set a rhythm that forces Barry to brace himself against the wall again. “This isn’t going to last long.”

“Fuck,” Barry groans as Bruce fucks him. Bruce leans his forehead against Barry’s back, hands gripping his hips hard enough to bruise. He slides a hand around to Barry’s dick and starts roughly jerking him off. “Bruce please,” Barry whines and Bruce fucks him harder, letting the momentum of their hips push Barry’s dick into his hand. 

It’s not long before Barry is cumming in Bruce’s hand, head pressed against the wall as Bruce snaps his hips one more time before following him over the edge. 

They stand there, Barry pressed against the wall and Bruce pressed against him catching their breath and letting the still warm water rinse off the sweat and cum. Bruce pulls out, slowly, put doesn’t pull away, just stands there breathing against Barry’s back.

Barry moves first, shifting away from Bruce to rinse off a little more thoroughly before reaching for the shower door. He doesn’t look at Bruce as he says, “We can’t stay in here forever” and steps out of the shower.

Bruce feels off balance, like they’ve jumped back over the few steps forward they’ve made. He turns off the water, makes quick work of drying off and pulls on boxers and a t-shirt before he heads out into the bedroom. 

“Hey,” Bruce says, as he steps out of the bathroom, stopping short of where Barry is sitting at the end the bed. 

“Hey yourself,” Barry says, looking up from his seemingly intense study of the comforter. “So, we should talk.”

“Right,” Bruce says, nodding. “It would be easier if you weren’t radiating regret so loudly.”

Barry smiles, it’s a brief sad smile; nothing like what he looks like when he’s really happy and practically bursting with joy. “Sorry,” Barry says with a shrug. “Kind of had an intense moment of realizing we haven’t really resolved anything and falling back into old habits isn’t exactly a great choice.”

Barry gestures at Bruce and continues, “You were scared of me! And instead of actually dealing with that we have one near fatal experience and fall into bed.” Barry frowns, “Or shower, you know what I mean.”

“I do,” Bruce says, stepping closer and sitting down on the bed next to Barry. “I wasn’t scared of you,” Bruce says. It bothers him, more than he wants to deal with, that Barry thinks he disappeared because he was _scared_. “I was angry that you hadn’t told me,” Bruce says, looking over at Barry. 

“What?” Barry asks, staring at him. “I haven’t actually told anybody about my abilities. I haven’t even told my _dad_.”

Bruce groans. “I never said it was logical. I _know_ it wasn’t logical, obviously, but I got mad at you, then at myself for not noticing you had some sort of ability and then it was a month later and here we are.”

“This is maybe the most ridiculous thing I’ve heard and you literally suggested we bring Superman back from the dead,” Barry says, glaring at Bruce. “It’s bad enough you thought I was a hooker, which still awful, but now it’s you were mad the guy you thought you were paying for sex hadn’t told you about his very secret, very could get him thrown in a dark cell forever superpowers? I don’t” Barry cuts himself off. “What is wrong with you?”

“I’ve already said it wasn’t logical,” Bruce says, annoyed. He knows it was a ridiculous set of reactions but he _should_ have been able to figure out that there was something strange about Barry and he definitely should have been able to figure out that he wasn’t an escort. All of that research going in circles to find how an escort service funneled money and he never once thought that the reason there was no smoking gun was because there was no crime. But it still all bothers him, he’s a better investigator than this. 

“Listen,” Bruce says, running a hand through his still damp hair. “I’m sorry that I assumed you were an escort and that I disappeared without a word, sometimes I can be a dick.”

“I did notice that part of your personality but I accept the apology,” Barry says, rolling his eyes at him. “I know you don’t go out of your way to be an asshole at least, not _all_ of the time, but I still don’t know where we go from here. We clearly can’t be just friends and I’m not super into being anyone’s out of state booty call.”

Bruce nods and says, “We didn’t exactly do well with the whole casual thing the last time. Can’t we just skip all the awkward, dating stuff and just you know.”

Barry gives him a look that Bruce can’t quite figure out. 

“You want to go from hooking up to trying to be friends to serious boyfriends in two days?” Barry asks, looking at Bruce like he’s gone insane. 

Bruce makes a face. He doesn’t even know how to begin to respond to any of that so he ignores most of it and says, “I’m not a fan of that word.” 

“What, boyfriend?” Barry asks, laughing. “That’s the part you have an issue with? Okay, what about exclusive lovers? Bone buddies? Paramours?” Barry says, lightly bumping shoulders with Bruce.

“Partners, at least it’s dignified.”

“That makes it sound like we’ve been together for 15 years and are on the verge of adopting  
several adorable children, Bruce _come, on_.”

Bruce sighs and asks, “What do you want then, really?” 

“I want the guy I’m half in love with to not ghost me again and like me back enough to want to put in the effort to build a relationship,” Barry says, voice serious. Bruce hasn’t had the chance to hear him get so serious and he knows this isn’t the time to disregard it. “I need something real and I need you to want that too.”

Bruce nods, reaching out to grab Barry’s hand from where he’s been anxiously picking at the comforter between them. He laces their fingers together and swallows hard, nervous suddenly that he’s going to ruin one of the truly good things he’s managed to stumble upon in his life. 

“I want it, but you know I’m not. I can’t,” Bruce starts and stops trying to rephrase as he goes. “I’m not great at relationships but I want us to try, at least.”

Barry squeezes his hand and says, “I don’t exactly have a great track record either, but we can both try.”

“Okay, good,” Bruce says nodding. “Are we done talking about this now because this is truly awful?”

Barry laughs, shakes his head and says, “Yeah yeah, we’re done. Let’s go to bed.”

*  
After the lights are out and their legs are tangled together under the covers Bruce says, “Are you still awake?” into the near total darkness of his bedroom. There’s a slight glow coming from the bathroom night light but beyond that he can’t see anything and the dark has always made him bold. 

“Yeah,” Barry says with a yawn, “why?”

“You know earlier when you said that you um, you know when you said how you felt about me?” Bruce starts, not willing or ready to have that word pass his own lips. 

Barry laughs, slightly and says, “Please tell me you didn’t save your freak out about that for when we’re already in bed,” voice low. 

“I’m not freaking out,” Bruce says, rolling over onto his back. He had, while Barry was saying it and if he thinks about having to say those words out loud himself he might just die on the spot but he’s did all of his freaking out quietly, in his own head. 

Barry snorts but follows Bruce, tucking himself against Bruce’s side with an arm across his chest and his head on his shoulder. “Okay,” Barry says, around a yawn. “You’re not freaking out. But you are talking to me when we’re supposed to be sleeping.”

“We can go to sleep in a minute, promise,” Bruce says, rubbing a hand down Barry’s back. “I just. Just because I can’t say the words,” Bruce starts, trying to find the right way to say what’s been bouncing around his head for weeks, really when he thought he was getting too attached to an escort. “It doesn’t mean I don’t feel the same, I just. I can’t say it, okay?”

Barry is quiet for a moment but then Bruce can feel him nodding against his shoulder before he says, “Okay.” Barry presses the briefest, slightest kiss to Bruce’s chest and says, “I wasn’t expecting you to say it back, honestly I was kind of jumping the gun. Saying it so early is a great way to get dumped, but I’m glad I’m not alone here.”

“You’re definitely not alone,” Bruce says, sliding a hand under Barry’s chin to tilt his head as he leans down to kiss him. He means it to be just a quick brush of their lips but Barry kisses him back and Bruce opens his mouth and before he can really think about it they’re both rolled onto their sides to make out. Bruce pulls away to mouth at Barry’s neck, along his neck, his ear and mumbles, “I thought we were supposed to be sleeping.”

Barry rolls over onto his back, and Bruce follows shifting until he’s laying on top of him and they’re pressed together from their hips to their chests. “Sleeping is overrated babe,” Barry says, breathless as he slides a hand into Bruce’s hair as Bruce sucks a mark onto the base of his neck. “Shut up and kiss me.”

So Bruce does. 

**Epilogue**

_Several Months Later, at some Gotham Charity Event_

“Wow, two appearances in the same year,” Kate says, walking over to the corner that Bruce has claimed as his own. 

He’s not really hiding this time around, he can see the room and the room can see him but Bruce refuses to even attempt to look friendly. As ever, Kate ignores all of his non-verbal cues. 

“Kate,” Bruce says, tipping his glass at her. He hasn’t been drinking much, but it would be impossible for Bruce to get through one of these events without at least a little scotch. “Are you making the family appearance again?”

“I am,” Kate says, snatching the glass out of Bruce’s hand and taking an overly long drink. “God, that’s the good stuff. Please tell me you have a flask?” Kate asks, handing the glass back. 

Bruce sighs, but reaches into his jacket and pulls out the very small flask he brought with him. These events never have anything other than wine and champagne and he’s not interested in drinking either of those. 

“I knew I liked you,” she says, taking a swig from the flask and then handing it back. “So are you going to tell me how things went with my fixer?”

Bruce clears his throat and looks out across the room, eyes finding Barry where he’s getting the full force of Mrs. Winterbottom’s attention whether he wants it or not. “It went fine,” Bruce says. He’s not going to give Kate anything more than what she’s asked for; she loves to trade in information and Bruce isn’t interested in being on the market. 

Kate smirks and Bruce frowns, dread slowly unfurling in his gut. That look on Kate’s face has never meant anything good for anyone. 

“I guess fine does explain the new guy on the Gotham society scene,” Kate says, glancing over at Barry. “I’ve never used her matchmaking services but I’d expect nothing less than the best.”

Bruce isn’t sure what look crosses his face in the seconds after Kate says that but her short, sharp laugh let’s him know it’s not great. “They didn’t provide me with _matchmaking_ services!” Bruce says, voice low. 

Kate raises an eyebrow at him but still looks amused which makes Bruce deeply regret sharing his flask with her. “Are you trying to tell me that you managed to pull that twink without someone throwing him in your path?” Kate asks, voice incredulous. “Because I just don’t buy it.”

“They facilitated our meeting under different circumstances,” Bruce says, ignoring most of what Kate has said. “Things just happened from there. No matchmaking involved because I don’t need a goddamn matchmaker.”

“Sure,” Kate says, still amused. “You didn’t need a matchmaker and your boyfriend doesn’t need a rescue right now.”

Bruce glares at her and then frowns looking across the room to where Margaret Winterbottom has Barry cornered against a column, living down to her reputation. “Excuse me,” Bruce says, handing Kate his now empty glass and making his way across the room. 

Barry’s face clears as Bruce steps up behind Margaret. “I hope I’m not interrupting,” Bruce says, not quite looming behind her. 

“Oh Bruce,” Margaret says, turning to smile that fake smile at him. “I was just having the most wonderful conversation with your young man.”

“I bet,” Bruce says, voice flat. “Sorry to cut things short but I’ve just gotten a call and we need to head out early.”

“Oh no, not leave early,” Barry says, going way past realistic as he slowly side steps her and makes his way toward Bruce. “Well, it was nice meeting you but we really need to get moving, right Bruce?” Barry says, eyes wide as he makes a very clear _let’s get the hell out of here_ face. 

Bruce nods and says, “Yes, absolutely. Looking forward to seeing you at the next event Margaret.” Then he grabs Barry’s hand and they head for the door. “You wanna tell me what level of ridiculous she was being? I should have warned you.”

“She offered to blow me in the bathroom since my boyfriend was clearly ignoring me and then when that didn’t work she suggested a threesome,” Barry says, clearly trying and failing not to laugh. “What is wrong with rich people?”

“We don’t want for anything so we have to try to make our own fun,” Bruce says, automatically. 

“What did you say to her?” Bruce asks, as they settle into the back of the hired car. He’s not jealous exactly; things have been good, but sometimes that hint of doubt creeps up on him and Bruce wants to take his private plane and disappear for a few weeks. He doesn’t, because Barry would find and kill him for doing it again, but he thinks about it. 

Barry snorts and leans over and kisses Bruce on the cheek. “I told her I wasn’t interested because I was in love with my boyfriend and not into sharing.”

Bruce’s lips quirk up into a smile. “Good,” Bruce says, tugging on Barry’s hand until he shifts over to press himself along Bruce’s side. “I don’t want anyone getting the wrong impression.”

“And what’s the wrong impression?”

“That you’re not mine.”

Barry laughs. “That secret has been out,” Barry says, wrapping an arm around Bruce’s waist as he leans into his side. 

“Yeah?” Bruce asks, unable to keep the smile off his face. “Good.”

 

THE END


End file.
